Here It Goes
by Shikijika
Summary: Ichigo needs to stop being the sober one on nights out. IchigoxHitsugaya, rated T for safety and swearing I guess.


-waves- I wrote this for a challenge. X3 Didn't win, but the winning fic was much better anyway. P

(The prompt for the challenge was 'first date', but obviously that sort of went to pot. Oh well.)

---

"Stop carrying me, I can walk _fine_."

"Yeah, whatever. Your walking skills right now seem to consist of walking into walls--"

"It wasn't there before I walked into it."

"Right, sure it wasn't," Ichigo snorted, swearing -- not for the first time -- that he was never going to not drink on a night out ever again. It just ended up with having to lug a practically-comatose somebody back to their respective division (although it was Toshiro, which made it easier; he had grown a lot taller since they'd first met, but only just came up to Ichigo's shoulders), which was annoying and wasted time... that he wouldn't be using anyway.

Toshiro huffed, but stayed silent and continued holding his weight around Ichigo's neck and waist, an unseen dark scowl on his face. His breath smelt strongly of sake; it was a wonder he was still able to talk without slurring, Ichigo thought -- although the walking-into-walls thing was a good start. If bashing his nose in counted as a good start...

He looked up, suddenly realising he'd reached the 10th division's building and that he had no idea where Toshiro slept.

"... Where's yours?"

"I don't _know_," Toshiro replied sleepily, yawning widely into Ichigo's ear. Clearly any sort of brain he had left had fallen out of his ears already; the kid couldn't hold his drink, that was for sure.

"Great fucking help you are."

"You're welcome," he paused for a moment "Just... go to the office. S'over there." His arm loosened around Ichigo's neck and waved it absently in a circle.

Ichigo slapped his forehead. So much for a kid genius.

---

"If we have to apologise for breaking down someone's door one more time..."

"It's the right one this time, promise," Toshiro mumbled, most of his face pressed into Ichigo's shoulder; he wasn't even looking, and hadn't been for the past ten minutes. It was a wonder he hadn't just dumped him somewhere in the hopes his lunatic fangirls would find him, or something.

Ichigo rolled his eyes in a silent reply and tried the door as quietly as possible -- it creaked in a ridiculously loud greeting and he glared at it, but it opened and a quick glance confirmed that it was indeed Toshiro's office. Thank fuck.

He walked in and let Toshiro's foot kick the door closed (well, kick it hard enough so it shut over, which wasn't very much), found the couch and let an already-half-asleep Toshiro slide off of his back and onto it; the springs creaked slightly and Ichigo jumped a little at the noise, but the captain just rolled onto his stomach and let out a snore.

Ichigo stood there for a long moment, arms folded and watching the umoving Toshiro. Yeah, definitely out of it. Or dead. But if he was dead, he wouldn't be there, so... eh.

"Yeah... so," Ichigo started, wondering why he was talking to a sleeping, pished midget. "I'm going now so that if you throw up in your sleep or something I don't need to cle--"

"Stay."

Ichigo stared at him incredulously. "Just because you're too pissed to do it--"

"I'm not going to throw up. Stay," Toshiro repeated, turning his head and opening one bleary eye to stare at Ichigo.

Seriously wondering if he'd been on something himself, Ichigo sighed, running a hand through his hair and sat down on the end of the couch; Toshiro's mouth twitched into a ghost of a smirk and his eye closed again.

Ichigo sat rather awkwardly for a while, then rested his head against the back of the couch and sighed, wondering why he hadn't buggered off already. Then again, Toshiro would be able to tell and would somehow get revenge (there wasn't really anything to get revenge _about_, but Ichigo didn't feel like taking chances with this). Maybe--

"Oi." The slightly croaky voice jolted Ichigo out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Can we do this again?"

"What, me listening to you snore? I'll pass."

"You're hilarious, Kurosaki. I meant, can we go out again?"

Ichigo's eyebrow raised. "That has more than one meaning, Toshiro."

"It's _Captain Hitsugaya _to you, and I know." Toshiro was sitting up now, eyes still slightly-clouded with sleepiness, arm resting across one knee and a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Oh shit, Ichigo thought--

Warm lips brushed against his own in a fleeting, barely-there kiss; Toshiro's now clearly smug expression filled most of Ichigo's vision for a moment, then disappeared back to the other end of the couch, curling back into a sleeping position with his eyes closed.

"Now try and work out what I meant."

Ichigo flushed red, feeling the warm tingle spread across the face. He thought about kicking Toshiro's arse -- along with the rest of his body, har har -- to the other side of the room and shouting at him, but then he'd just end up being murdered in his sleep later (it was always the small ones you had to watch).

Instead, he could only come up with the first thing he thought of.

"How the fuck was _that _supposed to help?"

"It wasn't."

Oh, here we fucking go.


End file.
